


Thursday Afternoon

by LeafZelindor



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, F/M, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Content, anthea has magic hands, greg sees a chance and takes it, mycroft has secret thursdays, mycroft is submissive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 19:24:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeafZelindor/pseuds/LeafZelindor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft uses Thursday afternoon's to unwind. Greg stumbles on it. Anthea encourages bad behavior.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thursday Afternoon

**Author's Note:**

> I do not practice bondage or bdsm or anything like. This is mostly based on some research and what my brain flowed with.  
> Created as a naughty alternative to Mycroft's root canal in The Great Game. :)  
> Just an excuse for Mycroft and Greg to fuck really.  
> All Mistakes are my own.

Thursday afternoon's were a time when Mycroft let himself let go. They were the time when he wasn't the British Government, he wasn't Lord Mycroft Holmes. He didn't want cake, he didn't care what his rather audacious brother was up to.

He was simply a man, and he could let go. Generally Anthea made sure that nobody would disturb him during those couple hours. Unless it was a dire emergency (she was screening every text and call anyway) they didn't discuss work. Since Doctor John Watson had moved in with his brother these sessions had actually been more enjoyable. One less thing he'd had distracting him. Anthea had been pleased as well. It meant her boss was relaxing the way he should. Never mind that he wasn't the boss during those few hours.

Then the Andrew West case had happened. Sherlock was being his stubborn self. Anthea was not pleased with him sending texts just before their session. She showed it by how she had him restrained in the small bedroom attached to his office.

“Bit not good Mycroft.” She drawled, nails trailing along his calf lazily. She had him bound to the posts of the bed. The pull of the bonds on his arms and legs felt good. Anthea was very good at what she did. They didn't have sex. It wasn't really about sex. It was about Mycroft finding release, relaxation. “You need to stop thinking about that case.”

“Anthea..” He paused, trying to pick his next words carefully. “It's a very, vital...” She slapped his thigh and he stopped, turning his head to watch her.

“Stop thinking” She ordered, the ring was in her hand. She hadn't used that in a while. A long session then. She obviously felt he had quite a bit to work though. He watched her rather lovely pale hands move the ring was a little cool, sending a chill through him. Anthea smiled lightly. “Much better.” She moved to adjust the restraints. Mycroft closed his eyes and cataloged exactly how they were stretching his muscles. Her hand slid around his hip slowly and then rubbed his arse.

“You've been very tense lately.” She mused, fingers sliding up his spine. “We are going to fix that.”

Being an expert at massage had been one of the many requirements he'd put out for his assistants. When Anthea admitted her skills extended to sensual massage he'd almost hired her immediately. She'd been a little uncertain at first. However after a few sessions she'd found that he never asked anything of her she couldn't provide. She'd admitted quiet relief when he said he wasn't interested in the actual act of sex with her. 

They'd come to an agreement. And thus Thursday afternoon's were born. Anthea's skilled fingers were already finding muscles that he'd forgotten were tense and were loosening them up. Her nails dug in the right places and the session wasn't even ten minutes in before he was aching. Anthea knew it. She knew exactly what she was doing. So when she helped him get on his hands and knees for the next part both of them were very surprised to hear the door to his office being opened. Mycroft hissed and tried to lower himself. Anthea jerked to cover him. He knew it wouldn't hide everything. The door should have been locked.

“I locked it sir.” Anthea moved to the door between the rooms only to be startled as it was yanked open and a very handsome grey haired Detective Inspector filled it.

“Mycroft we need.....” Greg Lestrade trailed off, his eyes widening just a bit. His eyes flicked over the blanket covered form, there was no hiding that there were restraints attached. They then flicked to Anthea who was still fully dressed before sliding back to Mycroft. “Ah...”

“Anthea go... lock the door again. Greg what is it?” Mycroft attempted to pull himself back together despite his position. His brother's friend was someone he'd never expected to see him like this.

“Sir.” Anthea gave him a mischievous look very briefly before slipping past Lestrade. “Please make yourself comfortable Detective Inspector.” She murmured.

Lestrade jumped slightly, his head whipping to look at her then he slowly looked back. “I obviously interrupted....”

“Locked doors, do tend to imply the need for privacy. However, don't worry yourself. It's not what you think.” Mycroft murmured softly. This man had far too often been featured in his dreams since the first time he'd brought Sherlock home from an overdose event.

“Er.... Looks like you're restrained to your bed and your PA is getting you off...” Greg said slowly. He shifted some. Mycroft got a glimpse of his ring hand. The ring was gone again. “Um, I can really come back.”

“She won't be back. If you'd help me out of the restraints?” Mycroft said slowly. He knew that look on Anthea's face. She thought she was helping. The results of this would tell if she was or not. Greg hesitated, then took two steps towards the bed.

“She's, not going to finish?” He said slowly. Mycroft found himself flushing some as those beautiful eyes took in the restraints and the blanket. It was obvious what position Mycroft was supposed to be in.

“No, if you let me free we can have our discussion and I will, take care of clean up myself.” Mycroft took a slow breath. It was as good of an opening as he could offer the other man. Not without flat out telling him to bloody well get his arse over here and to fuck him silly. Lestrade moved over, his hand hesitated, then to Mycroft's quite surprise and delight it moved past the first restraint to pull at the blanket. His flesh pimpled up at the chill of air over his skin.

“What was next?” Greg's voice startled him. Mycroft shifted carefully to look at him. There was something in those eyes, something, interested. Oh sweet heaven was he that lucky? He swallowed a moment. “You're supposed to be on your hands and knees. She loosened it.”

“Yes...” Mycroft took a slow breath then dared to shift himself up into the desired position. “There, is a toy in the drawer on the left. She usually... uses it to stimulate me..”

“Seems, rather clinical.” Greg said, then there was shifting. He could feel the bed sink under one knee, a hand that was rougher than Anthea's slid up his thigh slowly. “Don't you, have a lover?”

“If I had a lover do you think I'd have this?” Mycroft managed to ask in response. He tried to keep the shake out of his voice. Greg was touching him. Greg was, pushing a thumb lightly against him. Oh god. Both hands were on his arse. He could feel his cheeks being spread some.

“Guess not...” His breath was hot against skin. What was he doing? Mycroft wished he could look, but if he twisted too much he might lose this contact. His eyes widened as he felt lips press against his lower back. “My luck then....”

“Greg?” Mycroft breathed. He felt a hand shift to swat one cheek sharply. It stung but he tried to catch the moan that left him.

“Master.” Lestrade corrected. Mycroft let the rest of the moan leave him, head hanging a bit.

“Master.” He murmured. He was rewarded with a massaging touch. The lips trailed up his spine for a moment, a thumb pushed just a little into him. “Lube is on the table sir.” He said automatically. He heard a chuckle from Lestrade. Those lovely hands left him. Mycroft could hear the rustling of fabric, the clink of a belt. He bit his lip, he wished he dared to look. His patience was rewarded as Lestrade moved over to the table, giving him a chance to look somewhat at the man. The suit he'd been wearing when he burst in must be on the floor. He was fit for a man of his age, and obviously interested. Mycroft wanted to suck that cock, it was nicely thick, not to long. He was certain it'd taste delicious. Greg found the lube easily, he could feel his eyes on him. He dug around some and found a couple condoms as well. Mycroft found himself flushing in embarrassment.

“Bit of a cock slut are you Mycroft?” Greg murmured lowly, his eyes looking curious and pleased. “Maybe I should use the toy. Make you suck me off instead.” 

“I would do whatever Master thinks is acceptable.” Mycroft murmured, he let his eyes meet Greg's. For a long moment they just held each other's gaze. Greg obviously liked what was happening here. He knew the wife was still a factor. Did the other man feel guilty about cheating? He didn't think so. His answer came in Greg moving to loosen the arm restraints some and slide into bed in front of him. the Detective rested himself against the headboard and for a moment stroked himself.

“When we walk out of here what are we?” Mycroft let himself look down as he mulled over the question.

“You will be the Detective Inspector and I will be Mycroft Holmes.” He answered, eyes following the working fingers.

“Sit on your knees.” Greg informed him. Mycroft moved automatically, still watching the man's fingers work around his prick. “You wouldn't tell Sherlock...”

“I don't tell Sherlock about my private life.” Mycroft sighed and looked up at him. “If you never want to touch me again that's fine. I will understand.” Greg's eyes held his for a long moment.

“Suck.” The order was given lowly, cool eyes watching him closely. Mycroft leaned down and automatically let his mouth go around the lovely hot skin. He liked the way he had to adjust his jaw to accommodate Greg's thickness. He smelled of coffee and some sort of body wash. Cheap. He was flat sharing with another member of the force. Mycroft let his eyes close as he felt the weight of him and let his tongue taste skin. He shifted enough to take Greg deeper, swallowing a bit. The man was surprisingly controlled, not rocking his hips up, though a hand had settled in Mycroft's hair. Mycroft wanted to savor this. He worked Greg over slowly, taking his time. If it was his only chance. He tried to squash the thought. His jaw started to ache as he took longer to do this. He shifted and took Greg as deep as he could, swallowing. That earned him a low groan. Fingers tangled in his hair and pulled him up some. Mycroft moved with it, the soft wet pop as he was pulled off Greg's prick was delightful. The other man's mouth was on his in a moment, hands sliding down to unfasten the restraints which held his arms. They kissed with ferocity. Mycroft couldn't think of the last time he'd kissed a man. It was all hot, stubble scraping skin, the battle of tongues. Then suddenly it stopped.

“Finish unfastening yourself.” Greg's voice was low, grating like gravel. Mycroft opened his eyes to see the man reaching for one of the condoms. He shuddered and shifted back, twisting to get his legs unfasten from the cuffs which still held him to the bed. He was free just in time because Greg grabbed an arm and hauled him forward into his lap, the condom was around that lovely cock. 

“You are going to ride me Mycroft.” Greg's hand stole down his front. “I want to see you completely undone.” Fingers curled around him and pulled once, then moved to finger the ring. Mycroft whimpered and moved to straddle him. Greg hadn't prepped him. He knew it was going to hurt. He wasn't sure he cared.

“I want you to remember this.” Greg's voice purred against his temple. “Nothing she can do will ever match...”

Mycroft knew another whining noise had left him. He hadn't even gotten onto the other man and he was trembling for it. He wanted to cum already. Greg's hands were on his hips. He could feel it when the latex wrapped head pressed against him. Taking a slow breath he did everything he could think of to relax his muscles before pushing down onto it. “Oh fuck!” It hurt. It hurt deliciously. It made him feel alive. He could just scent a bit of blood, he was stretched, more than he was used to. Greg was deep inside him. Hands were still on his hips firmly, keeping him from falling from jerking, from moving. 

“God... Tight.” Greg's voice was breathy. Mycroft made himself open his eyes, made himself look at the man in front of him. The look of sheer bliss was a wonderful gift.

“Let me ride you Master.” Mycroft murmured, leaning in to nuzzle under that bristly jaw. “let me feel you inside me. Please...”

“God you beg prettily.” Greg grunted. One hand moved up his back. “Go on then.” Mycroft pulled back to get a good angle and started to move himself against the other man. His eyes rolled back in his head briefly as he felt the pressure against his prostate. He bit his lower lip hard and just tried to concentrate on the feeling, on making it good. Greg started to let his control slip now. Hips moving to meet Mycroft's. It was good, it pushed him deeper. Mycroft knew he was shaking, was making pleased noises. His hands had settled themselves on Greg's lovely powerful arms steadying himself.

A hand stole between them, the ring was pulled off and fingers were wrapped around him. “Come on Mycroft. Come for me.” Greg's voice was low still. Dark, needy. He needed to see Mycroft undone. A shudder rocked him and he shifted, leaning back so that Greg hit just right inside of him and then he let himself go.

“Greg!” He gasped out, feeling his orgasm go through him, tension flashing through every muscle and then the sticky warmth of his cum between them. Greg's hand moved sticky to his hip, gripping firmly, he felt the man thrust hard several times before going still. The condom stopped anything. He wished he could feel it. Part of him wanting to be claimed like that. Lips were on his insistently. Mycroft returned the kiss desperately.

Slowly they parted. Mycroft felt, a loss. He didn't voice it. They untangled quietly. The condom was disposed of. He found himself unable to look at the other man as they dressed. Arms went around him. This time clothed in a familiar dark suit. Mycroft sank back against the solid chest.

“Sir? I'm afraid I have to interrupt. John Watson is coming to see you.” Anthea's voice broke the spell. He knew she didn't want to. He could tell by the inflection. Lestrade pulled away from him, fixed his coat.

“I'll need an update on the case I emailed you about.” He murmured, voice slowly returning to all business.

Mycroft composed himself. Then slipped out to get a few things. It would not do for John to see him before he was fully ready to see the other man. There was much to do. He smiled to himself at the ache that lingered in his jaw, at least there was that.


End file.
